GATE: And Thus They Conquered
by AllenFierte
Summary: The anime GATE shows the journey of the Japanese forces in a new land. And I loved the show. But I always imagined that it could be much more. So, imagine for a minute, what if the GATE opened to a different time? A different place? This series of one-shots will explore the possibilities. Join me, for a journey beyond time and space. Join me, as we go beyond the GATE. More inside.
1. A prologue to Bloodshed

Details: This is a series of of one-shots portraying different results if the GATE had connected to other worlds. Some will be crossovers, others will be original. Some might be continued, most will not be. If you have any suggestions for universes that I should include, review or PM me.

All said, please enjoy this story. Or don't, though if you don't, tell me what I can improve and I will attempt to remedy it.

Rated M for Violence and Blood and Gore.

I do not own GATE: Jieitai Kanochi nite, Kaku Tatakaeri, nor do I own any of the other works mentioned in this piece of fanfiction.

Prologue: A record of the GATE (This is mostly exposition, and me explaining how the GATE in my story works. If you just want action, skip it.)

Throughout the ages, GATE has existed, Its existence known to but a select few. Of those who know of Its existence, very few have even come close to figuring out Its true purpose, because in the end, GATE has no understandable purpose. It was created by The Blind One, and attempting to understand why IT does things is a futile task, and has driven better men that you, or me, to insanity. One cannot comprehend that which is outside of mortal understanding, and The Outer Gods are beyond a doubt, out of human understanding.

So we shall not dwell upon the purpose of GATE, but rather the effect. GATE draws people into other worlds. It is my belief that it was intended to draw beings into the Dreamlands, but that has not been the case for millennia. Human record barely touches upon the cause of the change, and all I can gather is that The Tower began to call upon The Fall using GATE. When The Flame of the Lord and Its Brethren smote down The Tower, GATE was warped, distorted, Its purpose lost. For Centuries it laid dormant, but eventually began Its task once more. However, it no longer linked the Waking World with the Dreamland, but rather a shadow of the Dreamland. I have termed it The Afterplace.

The strange thing is when it transports those it calls forth to. They all appear at the same time, in the same place in The Afterplace. Every time someone, or something is summoned, it seems to create a new dimension of sorts. Hundreds upon thousands of worlds, each one linked to The Afterplace. Or at least, to a version of The Afterplace. They are all the same when GATE places the summoned into the word, but from what I have observed, the path the world takes quickly diverges. I have seen the world built up to heights unsurpassed by any others, and seen the same world laid to ruin, its empires toppled, and its people enslaved.

This is a record of the most noteworthy of those who have passed beyond the GATE, some paragons of the light, others twisted beyond imagination, and most a mix of both. Heroes, villains, saviors, and murderers, some real, some no more than imagined tales, but all undeniably, Legends.

-Abdullah al-Ḥaẓrad


	2. Path to the Paleblood Hunt

GATE has connected to: Bloodborne. Next stop, death.

"What manner of beast is this?"

Turning the pig-like beast over, the Hunter examined it. Muttering to himself, he prodded it with his cane.

"Beasts disappear when killed, but this creature… Interesting. And it fights alongside iron clad humans no less."

The Hunter turned his gaze back to twisted stone gate that lay in front of him. A thousand clouded eyes peered back at him from its great frame. It seemed almost alive. He slumped to the ground and muttered to himself. "This is gate is no creature of Yharnam, but then where? Ah, but does it matter? No, it doesn't. They attacked me, so I shall pay them back in kind."

The Hunter stode up and strode forward to the gate over the slain corpses of tens of thousands of soldiers, their once red and gold garb now stained the purest crimson. A sickening grin broke out across his face. "Let the Hunt be joined once more!"

His demented laughter echoed around the towering gothic cathedrals mixing with the tortured cries to the dying, before fading away. The Old Cathedral ward stood silently as it had for decades, a silent gravestone to the greatest follies of humanity.

Based on Bloodborne, a third person Lovecraft inspired action game by Fromsoft, creators of Kings Field, Demon Souls, Dark Souls, Dark Souls II, and Dark Souls III.


	3. Journey to Sanguinary

GATE has connected to: Ancient Rome. Next stop, Phalanx.

It was slaughter, wholesale. Two armies, almost matched in size, in strength, in tactics, in equipment. But only one was headed by a true military genius, with a debt of blood to repay. And they carried the day.

Legionaries met groups of the same, spear walls hammering into unbreaking masses of iron. Mounted cavalry weaved in and out, striking at each other, clashing in skirmish after skirmish. The only place the foes truly reigned were the skies, and even that was tested.

They swept forth, upon leathery wings, and were rebuffed by a rain of blazing streaks. Ballistas, positioned in nigh on invincible positions flung fiery death at their foes. And bit by bit, the foes were forced back, their commanders no match for the genius of one of the greatest military commanders of the Roman Empire.

Trajan positioned his troops in the perfect ground, directed his cavalry through the quickest routes to their targets, and rode at the head of his army, surging into the places where resistance was the greatest, and ending it in with broad strokes of his blade.

For a month, two mighty empires clashed, and finally one broke. It was not the Romans who did so.

Slaughter in the streets, dead bodies paving the roads, and the Tiber a river of blood. It earned well its name, did Sanguinary. The month of blood. The Crimson Days.

Based on Ancient Rome, while Trajan was emperor. Trajan was one of the greatest emperors to ever rule Rome. A Tactical genius, ruling from 98-117 A.D.


	4. Ghosts of the Reich

GATE has connected to: Nazi Germany. Next stop, Blitzkrieg.

They ran. What else could they do? A surprise attack, against an unprepared enemy had, in their minds, guaranteed victory. They had expected some resistance, but not the blistering counter-attack, headed by terrifying steel monsters, that spit fire and death, and hammered their comrades into the ground.

And so they ran, the commander, the soldier, the beasts, it mattered not. In the face overwhelming force, even the bravest soldiers in the empire broke and ran.

It mattered not. On iron treads the steel juggernauts roared forward, tossing aside man and beast, tearing into them with reckless abandon. They outpaced even the fleetest of horses, each panzer stained by the blood of a thousand foes.

Over a hundred thousand of the greatest soldiers of the Empire met the armoured fangs of the Third Reich, and were torn to pieces.

And where the panzers went, the Wehrmacht followed. The sound of gunfire pierced the night, amid the thunderous sound of cannon fire. Any stragglers were cut down, their bodies added to the death toll.

Supported by multiple other divisions, Rommel carved a path through his foes. Ahead of all others, the Ghost Division thundered on. Groups of legionnaires were rent asunder by claps of thundering cannon fire. They were crushed beneath the iron juggernauts in their unstoppable blitz.

When the panzers finally reached the source of their foes, a massive stone arch, all but Rommel's Division halted. To the astonishment of everyone, his tanks continued forward into the gaping maw.

The last tank paused only to turn its gun towards the gate itself, blasting the supports to rubble before barreling on, letting the gate to collapse in on itself, leaving behind a wide-eyed public and a furious Himmler.

Based on a theoretical invasion of Nazi Germany, while Rommel was still in command of the Gespensterdivision. Rommel was one of the greatest German commanders, and his Gespensterdivision (Ghost Division), the Tank division under his command, was one of the most feared for its speed and unpredictability.


	5. EVOLVING destruction

GATE has connected to: Shear. Next stop, a pissed off Goliath.

The Wraith swept out of the shadows, razor sharp claws slicing through the air. Its prey looked down at the claw that had impaled him. He collapsed forward, a massive hole punched through his chest.

The Wraith hovered over his body, and drank its very essence dry. Rearing back, she roared a challenge to the heavens, a terrifying bloodcurdling cry. It would have terrified all who heard it, had they not already been dead.

The best soldiers of the Empire, armed with the finest blades, were tossed aside like nine-pins. For in their midst stood thirty tons of pure muscle. The Goliath shrugged off blows that could carve apart all but the strongest plate without a scratch. Just one of these beasts on its own would be a hard fought battle. There were many. And they fought in packs, two side by side. With savage, primal strength they tore into the rank-and-file. Shields were bent, armour was cracked, men were broken. Flames poured forth from unhinged maws, consuming all. If the legions could hardly even damage a Goliath, then they stood no chance against the colossus which towered over even these beasts.

A 250 ton monster, the Behemoth waded straight into the legionnaires' lines. It paid no heed to the men it trampled. They were less than insects to it. It had eyes only for the siege weapons, the only tools in the Imperial army capable of harming it. It made its way towards them, with steady lumbing steps.

Though it paid no mind to the legionnaires, many died to it all the same. From between its armoured plates, molten slag poured forth, as if a mountain was crying tears of blood. Those unlucky enough to get caught in its way were trampled underfoot, or burned alive, fried inside their armored shells.

The tactics of the Imperial army, which had stood them well for centuries were now a weakness. Pinned in by the men behind, those in front could do nothing as the Behemoth ground them into the earth.

And high above, the Imperial Dragon Riders engaged in a deadly aerial fight with a god of the skies. The smell of burning ozone hung heavy in the air, as they weaved in and out around bolts of lightning. Flashing discharges brought columns of power surging towards the earth, striking down the heavier slow moving dragons. Screeching orbs chased after the quicker ones, sending them careening towards the earth all the same.

Projectiles were blown away by blasts of crackling energy, making any attempt at bringing it down from a distance futile. Closing in was no solution either. Any rider who strayed too close was vaporised instantly. The riders fell like flies beneath the crackling maw of the Kraken.

Below, men began to run in terror. The horsemen were the lucky ones. They barreled on ahead, escaping from the death that was to befall the infantry. A pulsing mass of razor sharp blades tore into the foot soldiers. The Wraith had ventured astray, to hunt some stragglers. Now it returned with a vengeance.

Claws sharp enough to rend apart all but the Strongest Steel and as long as a bus tore through the men. It cleaved apart all that stood in its way, leaving behind a mass of writhing flesh.

The horsemen had almost escaped, when they ran into a snag. The frontmost riders were thrown off their horses, as the horses legs were pulled out from under them. The instant the men touched the ground, they were set upon by ravenous monstrosities. Those behind crashed into the fallen horses, and they to went down in a mass of flailing men and horses.

Even as the horsemen were set upon by the hellish insects, a new threat made itself known. With a crash, a giant insectoid monster made itself known. It dropped into their midst, and devoured them whole. The slightest touch was death.

The men could not run, trapped as they were in the webs. Neither could they fight back, for every wound inflicted bled with acidic death, claiming the life of the one who had struck it. Men died, screaming in terror as their flesh melted off their bones.

The day drew on, and finally the killing stopped. One hundred and twenty thousand soldiers were left dead, and all the beasts of Shear retreating to the forests, Well, all the beasts except for a few. A pack of mammoth birds charged through the GATE, followed closely by a Tyrant.

They would pass through the GATE, which would be destroyed a day later by a roaming Armadon, and would themselves be killed by the townsfolk of Arnus Village. Their death would be a minor footnote in the records of Arnus Village. A small skirmish in which a few brave men would put down their lives to kill a rampaging beast.

In reality, this unimportant seeming event would have long reaching consequences. Spores grew up on Alnus Hill, brought by the Shear wildlife. In half a year, the Princess herself would come to dedicate a shrine to the Imperial forces who had died on the other side of the GATE.

Her entire party would never be heard from again. Any attempts to find her would be thwarted by the dense jungles that had grown up overnight. The forests would spread quickly, covering a mile in a day. Eventually its growth would slow down, and it would only progress slowly, though miles of land had been consumed already.

Civilizations would rise and fall, and eventually humans would mutate, gaining animal traits as the life force of the land grew more powerful. They would become more in tune with the land, even as they lost the records of the past. After all, to gain something, you must cast aside something else. In this case, that which was left behind would return to haunt those who inhabited the land which they now called Flonyard.

For in the heart of the forests lay their beginnings. And their end. A primordial beast, which had lain dormant for millennia. Beneath the GATE it slept, stirred from its sleep on the rare occasion when some mortal called upon the GATE. The power never lasted for long, and so the beast slept on.

But now the GATE being drawn upon more regularly, and the beast began to stir. And it has awakened, woe betide those who stand against it. A creature of the days long past, a Remnant of history. A harbinger of death. A Titan.

Based on the video game EVOLVE, by Turtle Rock studios. Some monsters are missing, namely the Elder Krakken and Meteor Goliath, as they were not in the game as of my writting this.

Also, I will most likely be continuing this particular clip as a Dog Days/EVOLVE crossover, when I find time.


	6. The Bleeding Leaf

GATE has connected to Konoha, the village Hidden in the Leaves. Next stop, Ninja vs Romans.

It was a glorious sight. An army of the Empire's best troops, clad in shining iron plate, and astride mighty steeds, all standing shoulder to shoulder with their fellow men. They marched forth into the breach, with songs of victory and cries of triumph. They were greeted with death.

Tens of thousands of soldiers had streamed out of the Gate, which had taken them to this place, and were met with the formidable might of the Great Konohagakure Gate. But even this mighty defense was cast into the dust. For the third time, the Konohagakure Gate was broken, unprepared for the strength of the mighty beastly abominations which made up the vanguard. The initial assault claimed the lives of many unsuspecting civilians, and even a few unprepared ninja.

But this was Konohagakure, the strongest of the five hidden villages. In minutes, ANBU were on the scene. Flames lept towards the cavalry, steel carved through the airborne drakes, and into the rank and file monsters surged forth.

A silver-haired man with an eye of crimson tore into their lines, lightning crackling from his blade.

A green beast ran, striking out in every direction, crushing shields and shattering bones.

A man armed with two trench knives wadded into the densest lines and carved them in twain.

A woman walked with a colossal fanged beast, both rending their foes apart with feral rage.

A man descended upon them in a swarm of ravenous insects, consuming their flesh.

Strangled with shadows. Struck down by their own brothers-in-arms. Suffocated beneath titanic weight. Shattered by lightning fast blows. Burnt alive. Torn apart by snakes. Lost within their own nightmares. So did the legions die.

The defenders should have carried the day. By skill of arms, this was their fight. They were killing legionnaires by the tens or hundreds without a scratch. But the numbers were too great. A hundred thousand of the greatest soldiers in the legion had charged through the gate, and they hurled their full might at the defenders. They almost broke the lines. But then the fight was joined by a God. And a Demon.

Hizen Sarutobi was known as the Professor by most. The Third Hokage, who had learned and then forgotten more Jutsu in his lifetime than all of the ninja in the Hidden Leaf combined. But he had another title. One forgotten by most in this time of relative peace. Shinobi no Kami. The God of Shinobi. He reminded the world why he had earned it.

Rage filled his eyes, and he lashed out at those who would dare to attack his home. Flames scorched both man and beast. Great spikes of stone impaled charging cavalry. Crashing waves stripped flesh from bone. Tornados tossed mighty drakes about like pinballs. Crackling bolts of lightning fried beastly abominations. His mighty quarter-staff darted out, crushing all who stood in his way. He did not just delay the tide. He ground it to a halt.

A few cowardly groups ran back towards the gate, bringing with them their spoils which they had managed to pillage. Jewelry, weapons, and of course slaves. They would never make it.

The rustle of leaves was all the warning that the leader got. He turned around to see a child cloaked in crimson burst from the tree cover. And then he knew no more.

The child wrenched his blood soaked hand out of the man's head. The man's corpse fell lifeless to the ground, even as the child looked around dispassionately. It was the first person he had killed, some part of the eleven year old noted. He didn't care. Memories of slaughtered children filled his mind, memories of broken buildings, memories of Konohagakure in flames. Memories both his and not.

Within him, sealed within a cage, a demon raged. Eleven years and a few months ago, it had been forced to attack Konohagakure. To destroy hundreds of lives, including the life of one of the only people to ever show it kindness. Now, it did not regret killing per-say, but it loathed being controlled. So on that night, it had sworn to itself that it would not let Konohagakure be so destroyed again until it had killed those that had schemed to use it to destroy Konohagakure, if just to spite those who dared to order it around.

And an ancient memory surfaced. From a time once forgotten, and still hardly understood. The Juubi, as it had once been a part of, had been tasked with the destruction of any who would seek to traverse beyond their Gate. And these maggots stank of an otherworldly power.

So it would destroy these fleas twice fold. For daring to attack that which was under its protection and because its very essence screamed for it to destroy these blasphemous invaders.

This rage mixed with the child's own, as he remembered the innocent men, women, and children that had been strewn about the streets. He remembered his academy class, of whom many lay dead. He remembered his fellow orphans from the orphanage, slaughtered to a child. And he remembered Old Man Ichiraku, one of the few people who were nice to him. Slain, with a spear through his chest, even as his daughter Ayame was carried away into the horde.

They dared? They dared kill all those innocents? To be sure, many had not treated him particularly well, but they did not deserve death. And most of all, they dared to kill old man Ichiraku and kidnap his daughter? Some of the only people to show him kindness?

One of the soldiers drew his sword and placed it on the neck of the hostage he was carrying. The child's eyes narrowed, as he took in the terrified face of the one he had promised to save.

This. Would. Not. Stand. For the first time, demon and child were in agreement. The seal which held the beast was undone, if only for a moment. Power flowed into his veins, and the demon roared.

A flash of crimson was their only warning, and then? Well, they simply died. Slaughtered like cattle. The child who had killed them turned around and looked at those he had saved. Then he smiled. It was not a nice smile.

"You know how you all said I was a demon? Well, I guess you were right." He raised his hands in a cross, and power flared outwards. "Kage Bushin no Jutsu."

And then, an army stood there. A thousand copies of the child, each garbed in a cloak of crimson rage, turned towards the army that now stood between them and Konohagakure. And they charged. The legions were already being ground to a bloody pulp on the anvil that was the Third Hokage. Now they were smashed asunder by a hammer of malevolent wrath that tore into their rear flank.

Soldiers milled about in confusion even as they were slaughtered by the thousands. The Third fought with a mastery of the elements, skill refined to perfection. The demon that surged into their midst used only brute strength and wrathful force to cleave apart both man and beast alike. Razor sharp claws split even the greatest shields, chakra infused blows blew flesh and bone to a pulp, and blasts of crimson death burnt man and beast to ashes. With a speed beyond all others, he tore into them, and left no survivors. So fast, that one's eye could barely keep track of either him or his copies. All that could be seen was a blur of crimson. Lives were ended by the thousands, and blood stained the green forests red.

When the day was done, a thousand men, women, and children of Konohagakure lay dead, alongside ninety-seven thousand of the invading force. It was a bloody day, and one that would forever be remembered. It signified the beginning of a split in Konohagakure. Those that hailed the child who had slaughtered so many of the foes as a hero, and those who vilified him as a demon. Thus, our story begins. With the the second Grand Council meeting in the history of the city, which would rule on the fate of one Naruto Uzumaki. The Crimson Flash of Konohagakure.

Based on the popular anime Naruto, pre-Chunin exam, but post Wave mission.


	7. The Darkest Gate

GATE has connected to: A damnable place. Next stop, eldritch horrors beyond comprehension.

The tolling of the bells roused the few sorry inhabitants of the ruined hamlet to arms. Blades were drawn, firearms loaded, and prayers both holy and eldritch were spoken. And then, they came. A legion of soldiers, clad in plate of shining iron and cloaks of brilliant reds poured forth from the ruins. The defenders looked out impassively at the massive legion. It was a formidable foe, true. But they had faced greater odds before and come out unscathed. Compared to the unholy aberrations which they had laid low, such a force seemed much more manageable. A young man, garbed in deep crimson robes, strode forward and surveyed the oncoming army. He gave a humorless chuckle and turned back towards his assembled men.

"What's this then? So, more arrive foolishly seeking fortune and glory in this domain... Of the damned. Well, there's no help for it. I suppose we must stand fast, or expire." He turned towards the assembled group and began barking orders.

"Crusaders, Leapers, Houndmasters, Men-at-arms, and Hellions to the front. Highwaymen, Jesters, Grave Robbers, Musketeers, and Plague Doctors in the second rank. " He gazed around at the battle-hardened band of men and women that stood around. "The task ahead is terrible, and weakness cannot be tolerated. Let them die upon your steel!"

With a shout they rushed to their posts. Within minutes, the defenders were already entrenched, weapons at the ready for the attack, and not a moment too soon. With cries of bloodlust, a swarm of red and gold burst into the village square. Over a hundred of the oncoming enemies died instantly to the crackle of gunfire and the twang of crossbows, as the Arbalists, Highwaymen, and Musketeers unleashed hell. The swarm continued on.

Now vials of explosive might joined the fray, alongside bolts of holy light, and eldritch limbs called from hell itself. The swarm stumbled.

Flashing daggers hammered into flesh and rabid hounds tore at flailing limbs. The swarm slowed.

Mighty halberds smote down, greatswords cleaved men in twain, and longswords darted in like vipers. The swarm paused.

Bloody sickles scarred flesh and great hammers rent metal plate like so many tin cans. The swarm stopped.

A lone man strode forth. The commanded of the defending hosts, his robes stain with blood showing his part in holding the lines. And yet, not a single scratch lay upon him. He gazed out at his ragtag group, many suffering from grievous wounds. He raised his hand.

"Time heals All." It was a statement. Though human in form, it sounded alien. A pulse, like a heartbeat, and the defenders rose to their feet, flesh binding together, all evidence of battle washed away, save for the blood of their foes upon steel blades. The swarm broke.

Again, the hand came up. "Unmake them All." A thousand men burst apart, blood forced from their bodies. "Embrace Futallity." A thousand again fell to the ground, screaming in madness.

"Dissolution. Puncture." The furthest most ranks died, their flesh consumed by eldritch blight, or their hearts carved out by a cosmic power. One foolish group turned back towards the man, in an attempt to end him. He shook his head at their folly.

"Know This!" They clawed out their own eyes in an attempt to escape the gruesome horrors that they were shown. The man lowered his arm with a sense of finality.

"Come Onto Your Maker." The remaining swarm, some hundred thousand men and beasts died where they stood. The young man shook his head, and turned back towards his loyal followers.

"Fan the flames! Mould the metal! We are raising an army! We will find the insects who dared to attack us, and we shall make them bleed for it!"

They cheered. He smiled, and turned away. Only once he was out of sight did he collapse to his knees, spitting blood. A hand on his shoulder brought his gaze upwards. A wrinkled old man stood there. The caretaker of this Godforsaken hamlet. No words passed between them, they were not needed.

The young man rose to his feet, and headed for the manor house. The caretaker watched him go.

"Child," he rasped. "You carry a great burden. Will it break you, or are you a better man than your ancestor?" The old man shook his head and headed for the bar. Thinking only brought memories. And those were a curse he had no need for.

Based on The Darkest Dungeon created by Red Hook Studios. It is a strategy game influenced by Lovecraft, and drawing on elements from old school RPG's.

(The last of my prewritten chapters. You'll have to be patient for the rest, it may take a bit. Ideas would be appreciated.)


	8. 360NOSCOPE420BLAZEITMOMGETTHECAMERAFAZE

GATE has connected to: 12 year olds swearing at each other. Next stop, Hackers.

From the gate, an army of men and beasts half a million strong surged through the Gate. The towering metal buildings brought them up short, but they continued on. The streets were strangely empty. It took most of the day for them to find a single living being. And when they did, they died.

A group of horsemen spotted a lone man, carrying a strange metal spear. With a shout, they rushed him. He just scoffed at them and began spinning wildly in circles, pointing the spear erratically all over. Just as they were about to reach him, a thunderous boom sounded out, and then they knew no more. In fact, the entire army now lay dead. Half a million headless bodies, face down in the cold earth.

Laughing manically, a sadistic smile stretched across the man's face, and he spun wildly in circles and repeatedly crouching. His shout of triumph echoed around the lifeless streets. "Get rekt, noobs."

Based on the Call of Duty franchise, namely the hackers which seem to plague the games. I mean no offense to CoD players, but your game just doesn't interest me. Also, there seems to be an abundance of little kids who just swear at you loudly because you're better than them. Not that other games don't have that problem, but it just seems especially prevalent in CoD. HOWEVER, I don't just want to make fun of CoD, as it is a fine game, save for the community. So, the next chapter will be CoD:BO3:Zombies based. Cheers.

Also, apologies for the unprofessionalism, this was very rushed.


	9. Here there be Zombies

GATE has connected to: Nazi Zombie Land. Next stop, How do you people figure out the Easter Eggs so fast?!

The thunder of guns filled the air. Brilliant bolts of death punched through armour like paper, tearing through the rank and file soldiers. Whirring machines threw blasts of lightning into the midst of the oncoming army, scarring flesh and liquefying organs. Streaks of fire heralded colossal pillars of fire and death, which burst into existence within the terrified ranks of the Empire's soldiers. Armoured gauntlets pounded men into the earth, blades shattering on the armoured hide of a mighty metal beast built for war. And a machine of absolute carnage roared its supremacy to the skies. This was accompanied by the chuckles of warbred humour coming from the five men who stood against the army over a hundred thousand strong.

"I should kill you where you stand, German. You would do the same to me, after all." The man in the mechanical suit shouted to one of the others, a tall man carrying a rifle wreathed in lightning.

The man shrugged. "Perhaps. But we only need you dead comrade, whether you die by my hand or by the hand of whoever these dummkopfs are, it matters not."

"Hah! An honest German. That's one I haven't seen before." The man laughed, before taking another swig from his bottle. "Then let's kill these idiots, then get back to killing each other." His mech to a few steps forward, and unleashed a hail of bullets into the crimson and gold clad army, shredding their front lines.

"It's almost like being back in World War Two, eh Taeko?" The well-built blond man yelled to the Japanese man, even as he hefted a colossal machine gun that sprayed bullets like a hose.

"Yes, it is true. Except this time, it seems that I am on the winning side, no? Much more fun this way." The Japanese man pulled the trigger on his sniper rifle again, sending a bolt of superheated plasma in the general direction of the enemy. "What of you, Nikolai?"

"Did anyone ever tell you," Nikolai grunted, "That you were insane? And perhaps a little bit psychopathic?"

Taeko shrugged. "I was, and still am a soldier. Killing bothers me little, if they try to kill me first. Now, Dempsey may be a little unbalanced. Though, I believe that's just a part of being American."

Richtofen groaned. "I don't have time for this. We have traveled across the multiverse in order to kill your alternate selves, and now we are fighting some strange Roman rejects in the burning remains of a city that was destroyed by dragons. If we are not all a little insane, then Hitler was a nice person!"

"I'll drink to that," Nikolai said, hefting the quad-barreled rocket launcher he carried and blasting the soldiers in front of them to pieces.

"Enough talking, more killing!" Dempsey charged forward, his gun still spitting waves of death. With a roar, the other four joined him in the slaughter.

On that day, one hundred thousand of the Empire's best troops were laid low. The next day, an unstoppable horde of undead swarmed through the GATE. Within a year, the Saderan Empire, the greatest in the history of Falmart, lay in ruins. Only a few still remained alive. Fate, luck, and need brought them together. Princess Piña Co Lada, now empress of what little remained of the once mighty empire; Tuka Luna Marceau, last of the high elves; Lelei La Lalena, a highly skilled but young mage; and Rory Mercury, apostle of Emloy.

One chapter closes, and the next begins, a chapter of horror written in blood and fire.

Based on Call of Duty: Black Ops III Zombies, developed by Treyarch and published by Activision. Call of Duty:Black Ops III Zombies is a first-person shooter, in which your goal is to survive as long as possible against hoards of ever stronger zombies. This story in particular is based on the map Gorod Krovi, just after you kill the Dragon in the easter egg boss fight. There will be a follow up snippet, showing Pina, Lelei, Tuka, and Rory's attempts to end the zombie apocalypse, but not for a while.


	10. Well, we done messed up boys

GATE has connected to: 5 minutes of writing. Next stop, a bottle of Mountain Dew.

From the gate they came forth, pouring into the lush green foliage of the planet. They surged forth, cleaving apart the almost dragon-like beasts which inhabited the land. And suddenly, they died. A few made it back through the gate, screaming about the heavens falling on them. The greatest army in the history of the Saderan Empire lay in ruins. It was, I would wager, bad luck that they happened to stumble upon earth, approximately 65 million years ago.

Based on earth, 65 Million years ago. I thought, what if the Gate opened into some inhospitable place? Like, I don't know, earth, just before the meteor hit. And yes, I know that some people say that it wasn't a meteor. Look, I ain't here to discuss history, just write about a bunch of dumb Roman wannabes dying, 'kay?

Also, sorry for the delay. Life is what happens. Next longer story coming later tonight.


	11. Winter War with the White Death

GATE has connected to: Finland. Next stop, one of the greatest snipers of all time.

"What is this sorcery?" The man gazed around in shock. Around him, a platoon of his comrades lay, their bodies staining the pure white snow a crimson red. With a shout of rage, he charged forward, intent on finding whatever mage dared to raise a hand against the Holy Empire. His final thoughts were on revenge for his comrades when a crack echoed around barren tundra and his head snapped back, his brains spilling out upon the snow.

A man, garbed in white peered over the hill he had been behind. Spying no one, he shouldered his rifle and began to trek back towards his camp. He finally reached the camp, and strolled through the ranks of wounded soldiers. He stopped in front of the commander's tent and stepped inside. An aide looked up from his papers and frowned.

"You can't be here right now, corporal. The lieutenant is in a meeting right now."

"It's important. I encountered an enemy force, and I believe they're heading this way."

The aide considered that before waving him in. "Go ahead then. You're at least a somewhat competent soldier, so if you say there's an enemy, there's an enemy."

With a nod of thanks,

"Sir. Corporal Häyhä, reporting. An unknown force has engaged both our forces, and the enemy's. They appear to be from another world, or something of the sort…"

The commander jerked up in surprise. "What? How did you come to that conclusion?"

The man reached into his pack, and pulled a broken blade from it.

"This is one of their iron blades. Masterwork quality, second to none. No military currently arms their soldiers with blades of this quality, except perhaps for the commanders. And yet the majority of those I killed, even what I presume to be the rank and file soldiers, carried blades like this. Even stranger is the fact that they are iron. Steel surpasses iron in almost every way. And they carried no guns. Very little in the way of ranged armaments at all. Plus, their tactics were outdated. Almost Roman…"

The commander stroked his chin. "You're a good soldier, Häyhä, and what you say seems somewhat logical. But still… No matter. Wherever they're from, let's send them back in coffins."

He motioned towards an aide, who stepped forward.

"I want all soldiers ready for combat. These… Romans will almost certainly attack us, as otherwise we could launch attacks on their unprotected flanks and rear. Send for backup ASAP. We'll hold them here. Corporal Häyhä, take another sniper and two spotters, one each. Continue to forgo a scope. Even without much range, if you can remain hidden it could affect their moral. An invisible enemy striking them down? It makes them cautious. Delays them. That's your job. Spread chaos, kill the commanders, and wait for reinforcements."

Häyhä saluted and exited the building. He made his way to the barracks and whistled.

"Ilija, Luukas, and Edvard, suit up. Luukas and Edvard, you're spotting. Ilja, consider this an opportunity to prove that you aren't all talk, hmm?"

With that, he strode away, leaving a laughing Luukas and Edvard.

"Good luck kid," Edvard chuckled, slapping Ilija on the back. "You talk the talk, now you get to walk the walk. If you can."

"Hmph." Ilija shrugged in an attempt to dismiss their friendly banter, which of course didn't work. He was a young man, not out of his early twenties at the most, while they were hardened veterans. His ability to hide anything from them was non-existent. "Then I guess I'd better do good, huh?"

"Yeah. It sounds serious," Luukas said.

"And how would you know that?" Ilija asked.

Luukas grinned. "Why, I just listened in on the conversation."

"You're going to get caught one of these days," Edvard said, shaking his head in rebuke. Luukas just laughed.

"And then I'll be demoted again, I'm sure. Well, enough waiting around, I want to see that Hayha fellow do some more of his impossible shooting."

Ilija looked put out. "What about me, then?"

The smile disappeared from Edvard's face. "Kid, if we need you that desperately then we have a big problem. Which, come to think of it, we do. Let's go, don't want to keep the White Death waiting."

They nodded their assent, and followed after the tall man.

The muffled crack of rifle-fire signaled another death, a man clad in a rich purple cloak falling from his horse with a shout. The man's killer shook his head in bewilderment.

"Psst!" He nudged the man lying next to him.

"What? And keep your voice down, idiot," the man whispered in return. "If they find us, we are so dead it's not even funny, got that Luukas?"

"But Edvard, it's no fun without a bit of fight. How 'bout it? I stand up and start taking shots, see if some of these buggers try get us?" Luukas grinned, not that Edvard could see that through his thick scarf, and began to rise. Edvard swung his gun to bear, and pulled the trigger.

As the armour clad soldier fell to the snow, Edvard cursed. "Well Luukas, seems you've got your wish. They know we're here." Even as he spoke, more of the legionaries poured from the trees. "Run!"

Luukas needed no prompting, and began running as fast as he could, Edvard right behind him. He fired wildly behind him, hitting about as often as he missed. Finally they reached a hill, and turned around. "Fire!"

At Edvard's shout, two more rifles joined Luukas and Edvard's in mowing down the oncoming horde. Ilija and Simo stepped rose to their knees, and sent bullets hammering down range. "Edvard, Luukas. Nice of you to bring the party."

Luukas laughed sheepishly. "Well, what can you do? But really, how many of these Romans are there?"

"Devyatnadtsat'." Ilija grimaced. "Far too many. I'm at nineteen already. Dvadtsat'. Make that twenty."

"Well, we can't really escape, right?" Luukas motioned to the surrounding troops, still advancing on the hill. "Might as well make them bleed."

"Do it."

Gunfire filled the night, and lead rained down on the approaching legion. A few arrows flew towards their position, but none even came close. The kill ratios were in the hundreds, by the time the men ran out of ammunition. As dusk fell, the legion seemed to come to a halt, waiting at the foot of the hill.

"Ilija." The young man turned and looked at the other sniper, not more than a few years older than him. "You did well."

Though none could see on account of the ebbing light, Ilija grinned. "From you, that means a lot, White Death."

Häyhä groaned. "That name. I'll never escape it, will I?"

"Oh cheer up kiddo," Edvard broke in. "It's not the worse name. And at least you'll be remembered. Us, we'll just die on this lonely hill, forgotten."

"Pah! For a person like you, that's just what you'd like," Luukas hefted his rifle and raised it to the stars. "Me, I'd like to go down in history as a person who really did something."

"Perhaps then it would have been a good idea not to run away from the Russian army, comrade." All four men spun to face the newcomer. From the shadows, a group of men in Russian uniform emerged.

Luukas leveled his gun at them. "I will shoot you, Vlad."

The man, Vlad, shrugged. "With what bullets, Luka?"

"Excuse me." Simo stepped forward. "Who are you, and how do you know Luukas?"

Vlad blinked, then began to laugh. "Luukas? How lazy are you, brother? You took your name and added a few letters. So, he hasn't told you then, White Death?"

The group tensed at the name.

"What, why so serious? It's not like all Russians hate you, Simo Häyhä, the White Death. Well, the commanders do, but that's more on account of your nasty habit of killing them. And it's not like I was sent to kill you." Vlad frowned. "Oh wait, I was."

Ilija pulled a pistol from his pocket, and took aim.

"Wait." Luukas placed a hand on his shoulder. "He won't kill us. If he would, we'd already be dead. I suppose it's a little late, but I'd like you to meet my brother, Vladimir Genrikhovich. The best special ops agent in the Red Army."

Ilija lowered his gun. "I've heard of him. Tell me, what do you want then? If you can't tell, we are in the middle of something."

"Yes, dying." Vladimir shrugged. "If you would like to do so, by all means, I'll take my men and we can leave. Or you can hear me out."

"Oh? What's in it for you?" Edvard cautiously observed the man. In response, Vladimir pointed out at the surrounding legion.

"You know that Russia is trying to take your country for the resources, no? But what if there was a way to solve that, without any more bloodshed. Or at least, Finnish blood. See, as I figure, those men must have come from somewhere. And furthermore, there must be resources where they come from. If they were fleeing, they would have brought more than a raiding party, and they would be much more desperate. Instead, they meander. They set up camps. They party. I have watched them do so. So I have talked to the government. Russia is willing to cease attacking Finland, in exchange for all the land up to where these men came from. As well as all the land on the other side."

Luukas nodded. "Yeah sure, and the sky will rain rubles. What's in this for you?"

"Must you always think the worst of me?" Vlad shook his head. "He was like this back home, in Russia as well. Always blaming me for his problems. But no, I have no wish to see more Finnish blood spilt. As I see it, we are almost sister countries, yours and ours. And also, I promised mother I would do all I could to keep you safe, Luka. I am not a nice person, but what I do I do for the good of my country."

The man turned away. "Come, Luka. And the rest of you as well. Terms are already being discussed, and we will have a resolution within the week. Now, it cost me many favors to pull this. Stop being a petulant child, Luka."

With a sigh, Luukas shouldered his gun. "Edvard, remember me telling you that I could never win an argument with my brother? Now you've met him, can you see why?"

The other men shouldered their rifles as well. "Well Luka, it could be worse. Could be that your brother didn't show up, and we'd be dead right now." Ilija shrugged. "But I do want to know, how did you find us?"

Vlad smiled. "Simple. I've been following you ever since you left the camp. I told you, I was sent to kill the White Death. Had these Romans not interrupted, you would be dead now. All of you."

Simo raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were supposed to protect your brother?"

"Well, yes," Vlad said. "But while he is my brother, Russia is my home. You understand, right?"

"Aye. That I do." As they followed the group of Russian soldiers, Simo shook his head in disbelief. Never in a thousand years did he think this would happen. Life really could be strange sometimes. This would surely bring about something, for better or for worse.

Based on the story of The White Death, Simo Häyhä. A sniper in the Russian/Finnish Winter War with over 500 confirmed kills. This particular story is set near the end of the war, with quite a bit of Deus Ex Machina. And I do apologize for that, but it was necessary. Vladimir Genrikhovich is not a real person, and I doubt there was someone outside of perhaps Stalin who truly had that much power. But please, just suspend your disbelief. Also, the adventures of Simo, Edvard, Luukas, Ilija, and Vladimir will continue. It just might take a bit of time.


	12. Team Fortress Too?

GATE has connected to: Mann Co. Defense. Next stop, hats.

Gaius watched as his men swarmed through the gate. The empire had already sent a few men through as scouts, and they had reported that the land on the other side was plentiful in resources, if a little on the cold side. A shiver went down his spine, though it wasn't from the thought of the cold. He was, after all, a veteran of the Galatia wars. He had cut his way through much greater forces than his own before. And yet, this assault gave him chills. He could feel it in his bones, something was going to go wrong. But alas, while he might be a high ranking commander, he wasn't high enough that his words of warning would dissuade the Council. So he would play his part to the best of his ability.

As his troops marched out through the other side the sense of danger that he had been suppressing returned in full force. Before him giant buildings of stone sent pillars of black smoke towards the heavens. His men began to spread out and take up formations in the, as it appeared, abandoned town. Then the screaming began.

He turned away for but a second, when the front line disappeared. An explosion claimed the lives of hundreds of men. Luckily most of them weren't his own men, but still. He searched frantically for the source of the explosion, some spellcaster of a sort. It wasn't hard to find him. A black-skinned cyclops waved some kind of stubby metal wand, while laughing maniacally at them. He was flanked by eight others.

A tall blond man in a strange blue jacket holding a long black staff stepped out of the shadows. A boyish looking kid in red who couldn't be more than thirteen held a club and a ball of sorts. A huge brute of a man carrying some strange twisted metal contraption gazed impassively at the numbers. A red clothed man holding a staff that spit fire from its dragon-shaped mouth tilted his head at them. A glint of light brought his attention to a form kneeling next to the others hidden by the shadows, holding a longer staff than the others. A man with a yellow bucket on his head just shook his head and picked up a large box. Another man in glasses and a white robe tapped the staff that he too carried, sending glowing red sparks across the ground. And by his side, a masked man tossed the knife he held up and down.

They were almost all spellcasters then. But there was only nine of them. What did they hope to accomplish? To be sure the loss of a few hundred men wasn't pretty, but it was a one time thing. No mage could easily call on that kind of power with any degree of speed.

Then, against all common sense, the tall red-clad man moved. He rushed at them with a bloodcurdling war cry. At first the men looked on in disbelief. What was he doing? Traditional tactics stated that mages should stand at the back, not rush forward like some barbarian brute. They soon realized why.

Streaks of fire shot from the black metal staff that the man brandished, blasting men and beasts apart. They were torn apart, entrails raining on the men behind. Orders were barked, and phalanxes were formed, but the man's spells cared not for armour or shield, killing them all the same. But in spite of that, he was still just one man. And they were the pride of the Empire. A lone man would never stop them. Cavalry charged forward, intent on cutting this insane mage down. Then the black cyclops joined the fight. With a battered shield and strange curved sword he rushed forward. And he slaughtered them

His blade rose and fell in a deadly sweeping dance, though his form contrasted with his erratic movements. He fought as if he was drunk, and yet was all the deadlier for it. His blade reaped a fearsome toll amongst them. Arrows were turned aside by a shield that look as if a single touch would shatter it. And when they attempted to surround him, he simply laughed, before charging through their lines, carving them apart like they were water before the bow of one of the mighty Southern warships.

If he cut through them like water, the giant broke them like so many crashing waves upon the cliffs. He walked slowly forward, uncaring of either blade or arrow. Injuries that could kill a man and in some cases even topple a dragon were shrugged off. The fearsome metal beast roared to the heavens, and men were shredded before its wrath. When they grew thick about him, attempting to end him with sheer numbers, he simply cast aside the metal beast, and broke them with naught but his fists. Each blow shattered bone and rent iron plate into little more than scrap.

While the giant was unbreakable, the boyish one with the club was untouchable. He weaved in and out of their lines, club darting out at any who would seek to waylay him. Blades missed by less than a hair, while arrows were simply snatched from the air. His returning attacks never missed. Men fell, clutching their stomachs as their lifeblood poured out onto the cold ground. The entire time, he yelled what Gaius presumed were insults, though the tongue was foreign.

Fires scorched man and beast, burning hotter than the Everlasting Flames in the holy temple. The red clad man with the flaming staff poured blistering waves of heat into the rank and file. He seemed uncaring of the carnage he caused, almost skipping as he melted flesh from bone. Men fled from his terrible flames, but none could escape the burn.

Some injuries were inflicted on the nine men tearing his and his fellow commander's troops asunder, but none remained for long. The white cloaked man sent bolts of blood red that slammed into his allies. Upon contact, what few injuries had been sustained melted away, as if they had never been inflicted. And any who tried to stop the beams from reaching their intended targets died, blood forcibly torn from their bodies. None could close in on him either, for he shadowed the mountainous man closely. One brave soul did manage to dart past the brute, only to meet his death on the vicious point of the blade the white robed man clutched.

His troops were the only ones still under control, the rest wheeling about in terror. He soon realized why. A quick glance around the battlefield showed him why. Most of his fellow commanders lay dead, their heads shattered into a thousand fragments. A glint of light drew his attention to the far side of the field, where these mages had come from. And he spied the fellow with the long staff pointing his weapon at him. Without a second thought, Gaius threw himself from his mount, though not quite fast enough. A horrendous pain burst into being, and he glanced at his arm. Or at what used to be his arm. Now, everything below his left elbow was gone. He staggered to his feet, and watched in horror as the bucket helmeted man drew closer.

The man with the bucket on his head had none of the martial prowess of his fellows. He did not cast devastating explosions, nor did he split man and beast with skill at arms. And yet, he was the deadliest of them all. He called forth creatures of metal and of fire, rather than of flesh and blood. They rained death upon all those who came near him. Though these summons had neither the toughness of the mountainous man, nor the destructiveness of the tall one, they made up for it in quantity. Three of these creatures flanked the orange bucketed summoner, and whenever one was felled, whether by the brave sacrifice of one of the legionnaires or by sustained fire from their archers, the summoner just waved his hand and another metal beast grew up from the corpse of the previous one.

The eight men tore through their ranks like nothing, leaving only death and destruction in their wake. Wait, eight. But weren't there nine men? The crunch of a twig had him spinning around, hand on his sword hilt. He gave a sigh of relief when he only found one of his aides. The young man looked panicked.

"Sir, what do we do? The men are in disarray, we need orders!"

Gaius surveyed the field, and cursed. "We retreat. This battle is lost. I told the idiotic feather merchants back in the senate that this was a bad idea, and then this."

"So we are retreating?" Gaius looked closer at the aide, who was stepping closer, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"You're not one of my aides."

The young man shrugged. "No." And then his form melted off of his body, like water, leaving the masked man with the knife. "How did you figure it out?" He spoke with a slightly broken dialect, but it was understandable enough.

Gaius grinned. "Had it been any of my comrades, you would have been fine. But I am a veteran of a few wars, and so are all my aides. I know them, if not their faces then I know their uniforms, and yours is different. Just slightly, but it's enough. So then, are you here to kill me?"

"No. Not if you're retreating. You, at least, seem reasonable enough to know when you are fighting a battle you cannot win. So go, run back home. And never come here again."

"I would," Gaius said, "But I don't know if the senate will agree. I will try though."

The masked man waved his hand. "That is good enough. But if I ever see your men here again, I will kill them." And he disappeared, vanished in a cloud of smoke.

Gaius gave one last look at the slaughter, before turning away. With a sharp whistle, his horse was back at his side, and he leaped on, riding off to find a real aide to sound the retreat.

Based on Team Fortress 2, a free-to-play multiplayer FPS created by Valve. Within TF2 you can play as one of 9 characters, the Soldier, the Scout, the Pyro, the Demoman, the Heavy, the Engineer, the Medic, the Sniper, and the Spy. Each class comes with a plethora of weapons that you can use, some must be bought, but in general you can get almost any weapon without spending a penny.


	13. Honey I stepped on the Romans

GATE has connected to: A vaguely relevant reference to a movie I have never seen. Next stop, Cutters.

They came in an endless swarm. One hundred thousand strong they came, like a tide of endless red, as if the earth itself was bleeding. And then they stopped and gazed around in amazement. Colossal pillars of green reached heavenwards. Gnarled brown trunks whose girth and height were so great that even the keenest archer could not see the top surrounded them. And in front there lay a mighty river, the likes of which none had seen before. It seemed less than a river and more of a great sea.

As the army was busy setting up camp, one man frowned and began to climb one of the large green columns. When he got to the top, he gazed around, and realized the truth. He scrambled down as fast as he could, and ran to the commander's tent. He told them that they had to retreat. They just looked at him in confusion. And then the screaming began.

The swarm of crimson death descended on the other swarm of crimson. And the two collided in a bloodbath. Razor sharp pincers sliced apart man, beast, and demi-human alike. Carapaces turned aside blows, as if they were nothing more than pinpricks. Ants the size of massive horses plowed into them. With pincers flashing furiously, they cut down phalanx after phalanx. When the men around them got too thick, they forewent their razor sharp mouthpieces, and simply trampled men into the earth. Dragon knights took to the skies, and were swiftly run down by horrible flying monsters with large bulbous eyes and four gossamer wings.

They rallied and tried to fight back, but it was useless. They died in the thousands. Finally, the men broke and ran. And they died all the same. They ran for the Gate, but were waylaid by a mighty beast. A million-legged monster surged forth, and ended lives by the thousands. Its armoured carapace turned aside blow after blow, as it did even the mightiest of magics. Left no way out, the grand army of the Empire was cut down to a man. In the end, only one person survived. The man who had warned the commanders, and who had fled before the army was entirely trapped.

Now he was left wandering an unfamiliar world, with nothing more than a blade, one week's worth of rations, the clothes on his back, and his wits. Luckily for him, he was not lacking in the wits department. Full of both sorrow for his fallen comrades, but also with determination to survive, he set out.

Based on a comment by runicwolf, which inspired me to begin writing this particular chapter. And then I took a bit of inspiration from a Korean (I think) manga I read once, when I was younger, that I cannot remember the name of. The basic premise was that there were three (I think) kids who got shrunk to the size of insects, and then had to journey around trying to find a way to return to normal size. And there was a second one in which they got stuck on a boat, and then crashed on an island. If anyone can find the name, I'd love it. Heck, I'll write you a bloody 1000 word story based on whatever (Even if it requires a bunch of research), because if I can't remember the name, it's going to drive me insane. It's similar to the educational books by Hyun-dong Han and the Manga Guides to (Insert topic here). Please, if anyone can tell me, this is seriously bugging me.


	14. A Dusty Old Prohecy

GATE has connected to: Boston. Next stop, a bay of blood.

The man groaned, and climbed from his dorm bed. He scratched his scraggly brown hair, and headed for the shower. When he returned to the room his roommate was awake and already had his computer booted up.

"Hey, Greg. You still comin' to that convention today?"

The brown haired young man shrugged. "Sure. I got a few hours to spare. Who all is coming anyways?"

"Well, me. And you. Your sister as well. And then we've got Lucia and her new boyfriend."

Greg groaned. "Oh come on James. Another one? Really? This is, what, the third? This month?"

"Yeah man, I know," James said. "But I think that she's actually more serious about this one. Oh, and then her boyfriend is bringing his cousin from Japan. Guy called Itami. Should be fun, yeah?"

"Sure thing. Starts at 12:00, right? Let me just finish up this paper."

"Yeah man." 

Three hours later, James was dragging Greg through the streets. Finally they reached their destination, and James collapsed onto a bench, panting. He turned and glared at Greg.

"Hey man, how come you aren't tired?"

Greg shrugged. "I exercise. You on the other hand spend all your time with your eyes glued to your screen. Which, by the way, is not at all healthy."

"Hey, 'least I got a girlfriend, man."

"Whatever you say. It's not like I want one."

James shook his head in disgust. "You really have to let her go, man. Heck, I'd think you were gay if you didn't still carry around that picture."

"What, still trying to get him to get over her? Not happening." Another person broke into the conversation, and draped themselves over Greg, who sighed.

"Hey Boots." His comment was followed by a grunt of pain from him, as Boots kicked him.

"I told you bro, stop calling me that. That's when I was a toddler, and I'm not a toddler any more."

James turned around and leered at her, taking in her lithe, and well developed form. "Yes, you certainly aren't."

Greg sighed, and reached over, slapping James on the head. "That's my sister. Down boy."

"Come on now, bro," the girl pouted. "You can't just scare off potential boyfriends."

"Boots." Greg turned and stared her dead in the face. "If you ever even consider dating James, I will disown you in shame."

"Ouch," James put his hands on his chest, and put on a hurt expression. "That hurts man."

"But it's not any less true," Boots gave him an impish grin. "Regardless, nice to see you again, Gregor. Dad says hi, and mom says to stop thinking about Luxa. Which, judging by how you're clutching the picture of her, has failed."

"Old memories die hard." He shook his head, and a small smile broke out across Gregor's face. "Really though Margaret, it's been some time. How is collage? Lizzy taking good care of you?"

"Yes. She is sorry she couldn't come, but she apparently had a few important papers to write. What about you? How's medical school treating you?" Margaret walked around and plopped on the the bench next to Gregor. James groaned.

"Christ man, you make it sound like it's been more than a month since you saw each other last. You know that you could just call each other, right? Or use Skype? Or travel the twenty minutes it takes to get to each other's campus."

"You're not wrong." Gregor shrugged. "What can I say?"

James sighed, and threw his hands in the air. "Well whatever man. I've heard this argument before, I know I ain't gonna change your mind. Probably has to do with whatever you two are hiding."

Gregor turned and looked at him. "Oh? What we're hiding?"  
"Yeah man," James leaned back and gazed up at the blue, cloudless sky. "Like why you're so protective of your younger sisters, even more than I am. Or why you both chose to go to schools in the same city. Or why, even now, your hand is twitching towards your belt, as if you expect to find something there." James smiled at the Heavens. "But hey, we all have our own secrets. I'm not one to pry."

Gregor smiled, though it was somewhat sadly. "You have got to be the best and worst friend I've ever had. And also, you are altogether too observant."

"Hey, I'm a Psych Major. Oh, and speaking of friends, here comes Lucia."

Gregor shook his head to get rid of old memories, glad for a distraction. He'd tell James, but who would believe him? Sometimes, he didn't believe it himself.

"James! Greg! Maggy!" Lucia waved happily to them. "I want you to meet my boyfriend, Kenji and his cousin from Japan, Itami."

"Nice to meet you." Gregor stood up and held out a hand, which Kenji took.

"Right!" James popped up from where he was sitting. "Introductions! Lucia knows all of us, Boots knows some of us, Gregor doesn't really like most of us, and Kenji and Itami know none of us. There, introductions done, now can we get in there already?"

Lucia put her head in her hands. "I did warn you about him, right Ken?"

Kenji nodded. "Yes, I can see why you said he was 'as spastic and uncultured as a drunken orangatang.'"

James just laughed. "Yeah, but it's all in good fun. For real though, introductions. I'm James, clearly you've heard of me Kenji. This here is Gregor, just call him Greg. We're renting a room together. He's 26 years old and in Harvard med school. And that little cutie next to him is his sister. Her name's Margaret, first year college freshman at Emerson University. I'm James, 27 and currently working towards a Doctorate in Psychology at Boston University. Nice to meet y'all."

Gregor and Margaret nodded in greeting. Kenji shrugged. "Guess we're next. My name's Kenji, 29 years old and, as I'm sure Lucia has told you, her boyfriend. And this is older cousin Itami, 31. He's visiting from Japan, and when he heard that I was going to go to Anime Boston, he decided to tag along."

Itami shrugged. "Sounded interesting. Heard about it, so why not? Not a bother, right? Ah, sorry, my English not great. Reading, sure, speaking?" He shrugged again.

"No, it's fine. The more the merrier, right?" Gregor just waved his worries away. "But let's head in. It's probably packed by now."

"Yeah!" James turned and pointed towards the main building. "Onwards!"

With a sigh at his friend's antics, Gregor followed after him, the rest of the group trailing behind.

"Hey, Itami." Gregor and Itami had fallen slightly behind the group. "What do you do anyways?"

"First Lieutenant, JSDF, Ranger."

Gregor blinked. "Well, that's good, right?"

Itami shrugged. "Wasn't really my choice. Mediocre grades, mediocre college. Not many options. Military was best one. I work for my hobby. You asked me which I'd choose, my job or my hobby, my hobby takes priority."

"Hah," Gregor grinned. "That's not that bad. As long as you do what you want."

Itami was about to respond, when the screams reached their ears. They both sprinted over to the nearest window, and gazed out at the streets. It was chaos. Men clad in red armour surged through the streets, cutting down any bystander they could reach. Archers sent waves of arrows into clusters of people, leaving behind piles of writhing corpses. Misshapen creatures hurled themselves forward, carving apart anyone who tried to run. Gregor looked out at the slaughter, and his eyes narrowed. Itami blinked.

"This not some event, right?" Itami asked.

James shook his head. "Nah, this would be far too overboard. Kinda sad, really."

Kenji was staring out the window, wide-eyed. "And none of you are bothered by this? There's a bunch of maniacs killing people, and you talk about it like it's the weather!"

"It is awful, but anger does not help right now," Itami said. "Being in military helps."

"Standing here and talking about it doesn't help either. I'm going to help." Gregor let his backpack fall to the ground and sprinted for the nearest door. Itami sighed, and followed.

Kenji just watched as they ran towards the chaos outside. "And you're all fine with this? I know my cousin can handle himself, but what about Gregor?"

James looked out at the bloodshed, and grinned. "Kenji my friend, I have faith in Gregor. He's not really normal, right Boots? Huh, come to think of it, neither am I. Or any of us, really. Heck, Kenji, you might be the most normal of any of our motley crew." James glanced over at Lucia, who was collapsed in a chair and hyperventilating. "Oh, I suppose Lucia is as well."

Boots shrugged. "Bro isn't dead yet. I doubt that this will kill him."

James pulled out a camera, and pointed it towards the slaughter. "Come on, Kenji. Just sit back and watch, or run in if you think you can do anything." 

Gregor glanced around the street, and sprinted towards a small girl who was crawling away from a sword-wielding crimson armoured man. As Gregor moved, his vision began to bleed to only grey and red. The man turned and swung his sword. It was a lightning fast strike, aimed with all the precision of a practiced veteran. To Gregor, it was as if he was moving in slow motion. A small tilt let the blade swing wide. One step brought him within striking distance. Gregor lashed out, and the man screamed in pain as his arm was shattered. A sharp kick sent the man to his knees, and the blade went flying out of his hand. Gregor grabbed the sword out of the air, and slammed it into the man's throat, dropping him to the ground, dead.

He turned to the girl, and pulled her to her feet. "Run." She needed no encouragement, and ran. Gregor turned back towards the oncoming horde, and grimaced. "Dammit. I hate killing." And then he moved.

In a second, he was within range of their front lines. The stolen sword flashed, and he was moving again, leaving the surprised men to die where they stood. He was in their lines, spinning in a circle, blade carving a devastating toll. Men cried out in pain, and then he was gone again, rushing towards a contingent of horsemen. Pulling his arm back, Gregor sent the blade in spinning towards the horsemen, where it landed bodily in one man's chest with a sickening thud. A backwards roll brought Gregor to his feet, now clutching a bow and a handful of arrows. He tossed all but one of the arrows skyward, notching the remaining one. And then he began firing.

He loosed arrow after arrow, each finding itself buried in the unprotected heads of the riders. His hands moved like lightning, snatching the arrows he had throw from the sky, notching them, and firing them in seconds. In less than a minute, the thirty man cavalry unit lay dead. Gregor picked up two curved swords, and swung them experimentally, before eyeing the massive wall of crimson shields that faced him. Spears pointed through, in a wall of bristling death. Gregor groaned.

"This might be tough."

Then the gunfire began. Gregor glanced behind, and spotted Itami slowly advancing, with a pistol pointed at the hoard, it's loud report followed quickly by collapsing men, clutching their chests.. Unprepared for the suddenness, and not expecting a weapon that could break their shield wall, the men broke. It was only slightly, and only for a few seconds. Gregor smiled.

"Good enough for me."

With a wordless battlecry, he charged. And then he was in their midst, blades singing to a tune that only he could hear. His world dissolved into blood and death, as men fell like wheat before the reaper's scythe, and a smile crossed his face. He met the full might of the greatest army in the Saderan Empire, and shattered it. After all, while they were men of war, soldiers of the highest caliber, he was a Rager. Born for war, bred for slaughter. In the forgotten halls, deep beneath the earth, he name was carved in every shrine of war. Gregor the Overlander. Gregor, the Warrior.

Based on the Gregor the Overlander book series by Suzanne Collins. I loved the first book when it first came out, and the series will always have a place in my heart. I would recommend it, but it is, unfortunately, more of a children's book than a young adult novel. Still, if you know anyone who like fantasy and is in the range of 11-14 years old, tell them to give it a try. It's worth the time.


	15. I GO THERE, SHINY AND CHROME!

GATE has connected to: Valhalla. Next stop: A Mad Max reference.

Odin, the Allfather. Highest god of all the Norse pantheon. He who sits upon the throne of Asgard. In his great halls, thirty thousand of the greatest warriors dine, and fight, and die, and are reborn for time immemorial. They wait until Ragnarok, Twilight of the Gods, when they shall pour forth in a wave of the purest gold, flanked by fifty score Valkyries; through martial prowess and skill at arms they shall beat back the forces of damnation, the legions of Loki the accursed Betrayer.

They were not meant to be called upon until the end times. So, imagine their surprise when a million men clad in crimson plate surged forth into their halls. Surprise quickly turned to anger. These were hallowed halls, and yet these whelps dared to sully them with their presence? Better men than these cowards had died in honorable battle and not seen so much as a glimpse of the graceful halls of Valhalla. These interlopers would pay for their insolence!

Like a golden tide, they swept into the ranks of the crimson clad interlopers, and tore them utterly asunder. Unmatched skill at arms was anchored by righteous fury, and supplemented with strength and dexterity beyond mankind. Neither shield nor blade could stop their wrath. For even the finest mortal blade paled in comparison to the lowliest of the weapons of war wielded by the warriors of Valhalla.

The invaders broke before the might of the berserkers, ran from the wrath of the Valkyries, and died in the halls of the warrior's hallowed grounds. And even so, though they were inferior in every way, there is something to be said for the quality of quantity. The berserkers waded through their corpses, slowed down beneath the weight of a thousand dead men. Valkyries were stained red, not with their own blood, but with the blood of their foes, their peerless spears blunted from the innumerable thousands they had slaughtered. Upon seeing their foe's momentary weakness, the red clad men rallied and charged. And then Wrath came upon them.

From atop his throne Odin had watched the rabble come to Valhalla. He frowned, or at least expressed his discontent as much as a force of nature can. It was a Gate of Power, and it tasted of an existence long since banished from the world of Sanity. A creature whose name not even he dared to say. It was unlikely that this rabble knew of what power they invoked. All the same, he might as well teach them a lesson, on why you do not anger gods. With a lackadaisical gait, he walked towards the carnage. Why hurry? After all, the minute these cowards set foot in his Kingdom…

They Were Already Dead.

As soon as he stepped onto the battlefield, it was over. With a single wave of his mighty spear, they fell. Their numbers simply melted before his might, crushed underfoot without so much as a breath. Where there were once a million men, now only ten thousand remained, whether by luck or by sheer force of will. They gazed out on the carnage, and looked at him in terror. They turned and ran, as right they should. Well, all except for one man. Though his shield was bent, and his spear was shattered, he simply took in his surroundings and drew his sword, casting his shield away as he did so.

Odin stepped forward, and raised his arm in a salute to the man. "Soldier! Tell me, why do you stand against me? Against such formidable odds? Your bravery does you well, so I tell you, run now and I spare you."

"And what of the rest of my comrades?"

Odin waved his hand dismissively. "They will die. As is their rightful judgement."

The man laughed. "In truth, I believe you. Else you would just strike me down. But I cannot do so. I have a duty, to my men, to my emperor, to my country."

"Yet would you disagree that it is my right to punish you and your comrades for intruding in my realm?"

The man smiled. "Yes, I would disagree."

Odin looked at him. "You would disagree? I am Odin, Lord of the Aesir. Allfather to the Gods of the Old North. God of War, God of Battle, God of Victory, God of the Heavens. I am the Father of Magical Songs, The Wise One, the Ancient One, God of the Earth. I was old when the world was young, and yet you would question my right to punish you insects?" As he spoke, his power flared. The air grew heavy with the weight of his power, heavy with the weight of his anger. The man just bowed his head.

"You have many titles, to be sure. And though I know them not, I would wager that they are all well earned. But as is, it will never be your right to judge my comrades in arms, while I still breath. While I still live, no harm shall come to them."

"Such is both bravery and foolishness." Odin gazed down at the man. "You could no more stop me than you could stop a hurricane! I am a God, you are nothing more than a little man. Mortal, frail, broken apart by a single touch. You stand here alone, against the greatest soldiers in all of Asgard. What is this foolishness? What drives you, little man?"

"And how could I die better, God Odin? I stand here, facing odds unimaginable, and I am more than willing to die, for even the chance that my comrades will escape." The man shrugged. "And another thing. Who said I'm alone?"

From the piles of bodies they rose, armour bent, helms cracked, blades broken. Odin's wrath had ravaged them, and yet they stood firm. Those who still could drew blades from their sides. Those who had none simply picked up one of the many scattered weapons. Shields of mighty oak bound by wrought-iron bands were slammed into place. Against the glory of Valhalla, they stood, unflinchingly. The man smiled.

"We are the Praetorian guard, the steadfast soldiers of the empire. We know no retreat, until either our comrades have left the field, or our foes. It is our task, our burden, and our satisfaction to hold the line, until death. Such is our duty. Such is our conviction. Come, God Odin, try your soldiers against our blades. We will hold, or we will die trying."

Odin gazed at them. Then he laughed. "When I felt a handful of craven dogs who dared to invade my realm, I expected little more than a few cowards, easily broken and easily routed. And yet I find a handful of men, whose bravery matches those of my finest soldiers. So then, I will offer you a choice. Join my men. You would fit well with them, warriors that you are."

The man shook his head. "I must refuse, God Odin. I have a duty to my emperor. I may disagree with his plans, in the case of this invasion for instance. But he is still my lord, as it has been for my family for a thousand years. So I must reject your most gracious offer."

"As much as I expected, in truth." Odin shook his head. "Had you but been born in this world, rather than another, you would have been a great boon to my legions. Fine then, in honor of your bravery, you and your men can go. Return to your emperor. I ask of you only one thing. So tell me, son of Man, what is your name?"

"It is Gaius Travare Caesar, Imperator of the Praetorian Guard. Faithful soldier of the Saderan Empire." The man raised his hand in salute to Odin. "Hail Odin. I thank you for your generosity."

Odin gave a small laugh and smiled at Gaius. "It is generosity, in part. It is respect in equal parts. However, should I see you or any from the empire again…" The smile disappeared from his face. "I will raze your empire to the ground, then raze the ground from existence."

Gaius nodded, in acceptance. "Duly noted. I shall do my utmost to prevent such an event. Should it occur, it will be over my dead body, and I do mean that literally."

With a wave of his hand, Gaius' men lowered their blades. They raised their arms in salute to him and his men, before turning and walking towards the gate from where they had come. Odin just disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the warriors of Valhalla to return to their halls. For them, it had just been another day of bloodshed, though not against their brothers-in-arms it was bloodshed all the same. And what care had they? The foe lay dead, nothing more mattered. They were warriors, they lived to fight, to drink, and to slaughter. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once more upon his throne, Odin put the event out of his mind. What care had he, after all? It was an irritation, but nothing major in the grand scheme of things. An event caused by a power far greater than his, which he could do nothing about. Besides, Ragnarok was soon upon them. Perhaps only another few hundred years, until the end of times. He had bigger things to deal will, bigger problems to worry about.

Based on Norse Mythology, specifically Valhalla. Note, Odin is sort of out of character, in a sense. In another way, he is not, as Odin is a character from legend, and not all legends tell his story the same. This is Odin as I picture him, power incarnate. A being of power who honors those of valor, as the Norse were like to do. And keep in mind, Odin is not a man. He is no more human than a force of nature. His whims are as fleeting as the summer breeze.

Also, sorry for the delay. I've been working on my novel, also life has been a bit of a pain.


	16. Really Short Life Happened

GATE has connected to: Magical Tattoo Head Kid. Next stop: I'm pretty sure lightning isn't a part of fire.

Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Saderan Empire attacked. They came, bringing fire and bringing death. They marched against the Fire Nation first, and laid it to waste. The greatest military power in all of the nations was laid to waste, slaughtered beneath the blades of the invaders. To the Earth Nation, it seemed the greatest irony. The invaders, destroyed themselves by invaders. They were not laughing anymore, when the invaders tore their walls asunder and cast the mighty city of Ba Sing Se into the dust. The air nomads had already been hunted into extinction, and the great temples of the Sky had fallen into disarray. Now, only the Water Nation remained intact, alongside a few cells of resistance in the other Nations.

Based on Avatar: The Last Airbender, released by Nickelodeon. Yes it's short. If someone else wants to continue it, please do. I have neither the time nor the inclination to write it, though the next chapter should be longer. Probably going to be a Touhou one.


	17. A Bloodstained Wonderland

GATE has connected to: The Eastern Dream. Next stop, my first cliffhanger.

Yukari groaned as she was pulled from her sleep. With a sigh, she glared at the person who had disturbed her. "What is it, Ran?"

"Yukari-sama. Something strange is happening."

"And this needs my attention, why?" Yukari was very unhappy to have been disturbed from her hibernation. It was a rare occurrence, and if it was for nothing then she would have to punish her tool severely for it. And why should she care? Wasn't dealing with problems Reimu's job?

"Because whatever it is is coming from another dimension. And it has broken through the Barrier," her tool, Ran, answered.

Now that caught her attention. It shouldn't even be possible to break through the Great Hakurei Barrier which protected Gensokyo. Sure, things 'ghosted' through, as it wasn't perfect. Lothe as she was to admit it, even she could not help in that regard; and she had made the barrier in the first place! But that was an entirely different thing matter than something actually managing to break through the barrier. It was true, she acknowledged, that there were other gods capable of such a feat. The Allfathers for one, Zeus, Odin, Ra, and their ilk. But they would have no true reason to do such a thing, and had always kept separate. Beyond them, the Heavenly Dragons, the Conceptual Dragons, and the Kingly Dragons could accomplish such a thing. But they had little care for beings such as those who inhabited Gensokyo. Humans could be the culprits. The servants of the White God, perhaps. But even then, few even knew of Gensokyo's existence, and the Legions of Man would not march against something which was of no threat to them. Many other potential causes were brought to mind, and discarded just as quickly. Finally, she arrived at the only possibility, and it chilled her to the core.

"Where is the break?"

"The Forest of Magic, Yukari-sama. Marisa and Alice have already moved to stop the invaders, if only because it looks interesting and because they are near her house, respectively.

"And what of Reimu?" Yukari asked.

Ran shrugged. "I cannot say, Yukari-sama. I would assume she's still lazing around her shrine."

"Get her. Get her now. And if that drunkard Oni is there as well, bring her. Even bring the fairies, if you can convince them to join in a timely manner. Bring Flandre, bring Remilia, bring all of them. Bring anyone you can find. Bring them to the forest. And tell them that Spell Card rules are off, slaughter anything that would oppose your path." Yukari grit her teeth, and opened a portal.

"Yukari-sama?" Ran looked at her questioningly. After all, the Spell Card rules had been put in place to prevent bloodshed, and even the most violent youkai followed them, even if only out of fear that the Shrine Maiden would eliminate them.

"It doesn't matter. This is not some normal incident. Even I cannot stop this alone. We will need the full might of Gensokyo." Yukari stepped through the portal, leaving a confused and worried Ran. After all, Yukari was undoubtedly one of the strongest in Gensokyo. If she was worried, then the threat must be truly great.

Yukari stepped through the portal and gazed out at the abomination which sat across from her. A tremendous gate, carved from interlocking stone blocks. It formed an arch, between which a black miasma hung. To her eyes, it looked strange, but not altogether inhumane. But she knew better. She stretched out her power, and recoiled at the touch of the damnable stone. It was not natural, for all that it looked so. An impossible construct, carved from the souls of a thousand screaming souls. It reeked of otherworldly power, a living monstrosity, bleeding chaotic blight into the earth.

She turned and watched as a legion of dolls surged forth and cut a swathe through the red and golden clad soldiers who marched through the accursed gate. Finely carved blades rose and fell, cutting apart men by the thousands. Yukari looked for a few more seconds, before looking around again. Those were her dolls, but where was Alice? A column of light lanced through the air, and tore apart a few of the flying drakes which filled the skies. Ah, there she was. Opening another portal, Yukari stepped through. She emerged next to Alice, who was lying on the ground, magic pouring from her hands into the vicious cut in her side of her blue dress. Yukari blinked.

"You were injured? That is slightly surprising," Yukari said.

"You're awake? That's very surprising," the black and white clad magician who stood protectively next to Alice replied.

Yukari just glanced at her for a second. "As uncouth as ever, Marisa. What a rude child, talking back to her elders in such a way."

"Says the old hag who can't even be bothered to use the door," Marisa shot back.

Alice sighed. "Hello, Yukari-sama. Yes, I was injured, through my own hubaris. I did not expect them to not use danmaku, and it took me but surprise. Even then, I did not think they could harm me. I was wrong. Regardless, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Yes. Because this is a fight you cannot win. At least on your own, that is." Yukari glanced over at Marisa who was frowning at her. "Oh don't give me that look, Marisa. You know it's true. You've both resorted to using lethal force. And you're still losing. Alice is injured and you're low on power. I can see well enough that that isn't the first Master Spark you've used, and I know your limits. You won't last much longer. Any particular reason you haven't retreated yet?"

Alice's eyes flashed with anger. "Just over that hill is my house. And I will not let these… humans force me from my home!"

Yukari nodded and looked over at Marisa, who just scratched the back of her head. "Hey, I can't just let Alice fight on her own, can I? If I did, I wouldn't be a very good friend, yeah?"

"So you say," Yukari shrugged. "And yet, you are losing. I'd give you, what, another thirty minutes?"

"Well, sure, but that's only because they won't stop coming!" Marisa said. "It's like they're ants or something."

"Hmm. Well then, I suppose it's a good thing that you have some help coming. Both of you, just conserve your energy. You'll need it. For what will come."

"What?" Marisa looked at Yukari in confusion, but the Gap Youkai simply stepped forward and raised her fan.

She gazed out at the steadily approaching hoard with cold, unfeeling eyes. "Die. Find eternal rest, you poor manipulated souls; Dream Touched that you are." They were torn apart, ripped asunder, drowned in their own blood. Marisa gazed at the carnage with wide eyes.

"Wow. I knew you were strong, but just wow. Hey, how come you never do that in a Spell Card battle?"

"Because it would be unfair," Yukari answered. "It uses no danmaku, so it wouldn't be allowed. Beyond that, I just couldn't be bothered."

Alice too was gazing at the open field, now stained red. Her dolls still swarmed among the corpses, prodding them. "What," Alice asked, "did you do anyways? I can see the power, the flow, but I can't figure out the result."

Yukari shrugged slightly. "I simply removed the border between flesh and blood. With nothing to hold their blood in their veins, they died. It took little power. After all, we shall, all of us, need our strength in what is to come."

Marisa blinked. "Whatcha mean, what's to come? It don't really seem like there's any left… what in the heck is that?" Her tone turned hysterical at towards the end, as she recoiled in disgust at the writhing shape which was forming.

Fallen bodies were lifted by invisible hands, and pulled towards the ever growing mass. The corpses were twisted together and mashed into a monstrous form. It took the shape of a human, crafted from the lifeless flesh and bone of three hundred thousand fallen soldiers. The abomination, for it could be nothing else, turned and stared at Yukari.

"I know you," it rasped. "I remember when you were nothing more than a child. You have grown. I would be proud of you, perhaps. You are no longer the helpless whelp you once were."

Yukari gave a humorless chuckle. "Proud? What do you know of pride? It is a thing of the sane world, not of the Dreamlands. You may wear the guise of human, however loosely, but you are no more human than the ground I stand on."

"Human? Ha," the creature rasped. "You speak of humanity, and you you are not one."

"True," Yukari tilted her head in acceptance. "But I am at least of this world. Of this dimension. You are not. You are a blot upon sanity itself. And I will see you gone."

The monster reared its head back and gave a laugh. It rang through the air, reverberating in the ears of all present. Marisa and Alice collapsed to the ground, clutching their ears as the maddening sound echoed in their minds. Yukari frowned, and waved her fan. The sound abruptly stopped, though the two magicians still clutched at their ears, the phantom of the unearthly laugh still permeating their conscious.

"You? See me gone? Me? Child, I was all-encompassing, that which was old when your world was still young. Child, I am power incarnate, the Dreamer of the Distant Realms. Child, I will be forever, Mad Dancer of the Blind Ones. Abomination you name me, and rightfully so. My kind has no place upon this realm, so great is our might. You would see me gone? Well then, I welcome the challenge. Bring forth your champions, I shall wait. And then I shall slaughter all of you."

"You are an abomination, a testament to the blight of the Outer Realms - you must, shall, will be destroyed! I will allow your madness to taint this Wonderland no longer!"

MyLinebreaksDon'tWork

Based on Touhou, a highly popular danmaku (Bullet Hell) game series by ZUN. If the characters are out of character, sorry. Touhou is far to expansive for me to have anything more than a passing knowledge of. **And yes, there will be a second chapter.**

Why is there an abomination for them to fight? Because otherwise the FauxRomans would stand no chance. Granted, they usually wouldn't, but it would be even more unfair. Alice was injured, but that's because she never uses her full power, even if it means losing. (Quote from the wiki.) That, and they took her by surprise. Of course, with Marisa there, it wasn't like they could capitalize on that, but whatever. Yes, Marisa and Alice would lose to the FauxRomans, at least on their own. Both are highly skilled magicians in their own right, but against an army 300,000 strong, they would be overwhelmed. There is, after all, a quality to quantity. But they wouldn't be alone for long, as Reimu would undoubtedly show up if one of her only friends was in danger. If worst came to worst, Marisa could just bop Alice on the head, and run away with her. Not like a drake can catch up to her broom.

Next time, blood! Fighting! The inhabitants of Gensokyo fighting without the limitation of spell cards!


	18. A Shadow of Fire

GATE has connected to: A continuation. Next stop: Fanon Council!

"Kill the demon! He is clearly beginning to grow into the monster he once was!" The cries rang out from many around the room. Had Sarutobi been any less used to the sheer stupidity of the civilians, he would have had his head in his hands at their irrational hate. But he was, unfortunately, very used to it. He had been Hokage for decades, and as such was very used to dealing with the incompetent. Usually he was lenient, for there wasn't any point in needlessly antagonizing the merchants of the village. That said, everyone has their tipping point. And he had reached his.

"Be silent!" Sarutobi roared, slamming his quarterstaff against the floor. Power flashed in his eyes, and the assembled crowd grew silent. "You want me to get rid of Naruto, correct? You claim he is a demon, correct? You don't want to take the chance that the Kyuubi destroys Leaf a second time, correct? Fine then. But this is not something that is only important to the civilian council. So assemble all the councils, civilian, ninja, and elder. Go away and play your games. Trade favors, sweet talk others, and come back in three days. Then we will have a vote on the fate of one Naruto Uzumaki. Now leave me be, I have a village to repair, paperwork to sign, and answers to get." When the assembled crowd looked around in confusion, he pulled forth more of his power, which seeped into the room in an oppressive cloud of pressure. "I said leave!" the God of Shinobi roared. They left.

Sarutobi stood and walked back towards his office, flanked by his ANBU guard they passed the hospital, which was still in a state of activity, medical ninja rushing about, bringing supplies to heal the injured and carrying away stretchers that held the dead. They passed the ninja academy, which was now closed. Some unlucky children would never again grace its walls. They passed the Memorial Stone, stone carvers already at work, immortalizing the few who were overwhelmed and slaughtered. Ninja, caught unaware, or killed protecting civilians from the hoard. And finally they arrived at the Hokage Tower. Sarutobi strolled inside and entered his office. With a wave, the ANBU disappeared from sight. The old Hokage sighed and sat down at his desk. A pile of paperwork already sat there, and he grimaced. It was, he though, as if paperwork was some sort of plague. There was always more of it, and it never went away for good. He quickly wrote up a memo that someone should tell Naruto that he would be on trial, with the possibility of death. Sarutobi handed it to an ANBU who stepped out of the shadows, before putting it out of mind. There were more important things to worry about.

"Let the full Council come to order! Today we will be addressing the fate of Naruto Uzumaki. Hokage?" The thin man who had just spoken turned towards Sarutobi, who nodded back. The thin man was called Hametsu, and he had been on the council for as long as it had existed. He was old, old enough that not even Sarutobi remembered where he had come from. In fact, no one knew anything about him. It was said that eras may come and go, Hokage may live and die, but Hametsu? Hametsu is here to stay. In spite of this, Hametsu was not important. He was not the master manipulator that some claimed he was. He was old, but nothing more. He had existed since before the council had. He had been old when Konoha was still young. He had acted as an aide to the Shodai Hokage, the Nidaime Hokage, and when Sarutobi, the Sandaime Hokage had created the Grand Council, Hametsu had been among the first to join. He had sat for decades, and never yet voted. Never expressed an opinion. Never done anything more than announce what the council was gathered for. But today, Hametsu looked on at the proceedings with interest in his world-weary eyes. And it made Sarutobi worried. But there was nothing for it. So he put old Hametsu out of his mind, and turned to the council.

"You have heard Hametsu. You know what we are ruling on. And I know some of you would wish to vote now. But first, why don't we bring in the accused? Just for the sake of posterity." Some of the assembled council members looked around with a slight bit of worry. After all, they had counted on the demon not being here. If he was, he might be able to trick some of the more soft-hearted members into thinking that he wasn't a monster. One member spoke up.

"Hokage, I thought the Kyuubi was away. Was he not assigned to a mission?"

Sarutobi waved the man away. "No, Kakashi didn't feel like showing up. I think. To be honest, I'm not sure. Whatever the case, I can't send a genin team without the Jonin, so they didn't go."

The same man spoke up again. "Well then, this Kakashi clearly isn't good at following orders. Why don't we kick him out as well? He's probably not a very good ninja if he was assigned to the demon anyways."

The entire council burst into laughter. Even those who hated Naruto and wanted him dead respected Kakashi. The Copy Ninja, prodigy in a town of prodigies. To be sure, some in the room wished him dead, for one reason or another, but universally, he was respected. He was lazy, he was stuck in the past, he was most certainly not perfect. But he was, as much as was possible, an incredibly exemplary ninja.

"You have said your piece. Now, sit down and never darken my halls with your stupidity again," Sarutobi said. The man tried to protest, but Sarutobi paid him no mind. "If you continue your inane babbling, I will kill you." The young man sat down. "Very well then, bring in the accused!"

"But Hokage," his old friend Homura said. "We have not yet voted to allow him in here. It goes in the face of all tradition…"

Sarutobi turned to his old friend, and his old friend flinched away. "I will tell you what I told the insolent brat only a little while prior. Cease your inane babbling or die." There was steel in the old hokage's eyes. For too long, the council had become used to Old Man Sarutobi, the kindly grandfather of the ninja. They had forgotten Sarutobi, Third Hokage, veteran of the First, Second, and Third Ninja Wars. With a single glance, he reminded them, and they fell silent. At least in this matter, none would oppose him.

The doors swung open with a creak, and a short, blond haired boy walked through the doors. He couldn't have been more than eleven, and his eyes looked downtrodden. It was a sight that would have made most want to hung the child, at the loss and despair in his eyes. And yet, most of the civilian council and a sizable portion of the ninja council looked at the child with nothing more than cold hatred, fear, and loathing. The high council, with his old teammates, stood aloof, but clearly didn't like the boy.

"In my mind," Sarutobi said, "there is no reason to delay. You all know what the vote is about, and nothing I say will sway your mind. So, all in favour of his immediate execution?"

As one, the civilian council roared their assent, and the boy flinched away from their hate filled cries. He turned his eyes to the ninja council, searching for any support there. He found little. One by one, the ninja council too raised their hands. Most who wished for death were minor clans, but a few major ones joined their side. Shimura for one. Akimichi and Yamanaka as well. The Inuzuka too, though their head clearly disliked the decision. Notably missing were the Nara and the Hyuga. Of course, the Aburame abstained, as they almost always did. But, though these few clans voted against, the majority voted for death. The high council too voted for the death of a child who he thought of as his grandson. Sarutobi gave a sigh. It was as he had expected, but he really hadn't wanted to do this.

He raised a hand, and the civilian council calmed itself. With another sigh, Sarutobi spoke. "Well then, I suppose I have no choice. I am sorry to say…"

"Please, wait, Hokage." Sarutobi paused, and turned in surprise, as did the rest of the council. Of all the people to speak up, he had been the last one Sarutobi had expected.

"Well then, speak up Hiashi. What do you have to say?" Sarutobi asked, motioning to the Hyuuga clan head.

"Hokage, there is no need to kill the child. If you just allow my clan to apply the Caged Bird seal, then we could keep him alive as an asset. Why waste such a powerful tool, after all?"

Sarutobi glanced over at Danzo, whom he would have expected to have said as much. Danzo merely shook his head. "While I would agree with the Hyuuga clan head, it would be mostly useless. The boy is too old to be bound, not when he has already tasted freedom. Unless you were to give him to me and allow me to train him as I once trained my Root, then he is useless."

Sarutobi would have laughed. Danzo made it seem as if Root was gone, but he knew the truth. Of course he did. He might be old, but that did not mean he was senile. And yet, he made no move to disassemble the group. After all, it was useful to have a shadow group, who would carry out mission that he would never assign to even his Anbu. Not, of course, that they followed his orders, but he trusted Danzo to at least uphold the best interests of Konoha.

And that was why he shook his head. "Refused, Danzo. Better he die than be given over to you. I disbanded Root for a reason." Yes, Sarutobi trusted Danzo to act in Konoha's best interests. And in this case, the best interests of Konoha dictated that Naruto be either broken or killed. In the end, giving him to Danzo would only result in him being killed all the same.

"Then," Danzo said sadly, "I must ask that we execute him. It would not do to give the Hyuuga any more power than they already have."

"I'm sorry, but are you insinuating that I ask this only out of a wish for more power?" Hiashi almost yelled at Danzo, which was quite the feat. After all, the Hyuuga were notoriously good at keeping their composure. "If it would placate you, I could attempt to modify the seal so that only the Hokage would have control. It would place the Jinchūriki under the sole control of the Hokage."

Sarutobi shook his head. "Your idea has merit, but I guarantee that we have no prison that can hold the Nine-tails. Your seal would last only for a few days. A week at best. Currently, the greatest seal that I have ever seen, save for perhaps those in the Tower or in Uzushiogakure, holds the Kyuubi at bay. Yours would not hold. No, I have a better idea. The council has voted to kill him, correct?"  
Hiashi frowned. "Yes, Sarutobi-sama. But, if you just give me some time, I could develop a more specialized seal and…"

Sarutobi shook his head. "No. There is no need. I have heard the council's wishes. There is only one thing to do now, I suppose. As Hokage of Konohagakure, I hereby declare that Naruto Uzumaki…" He paused and looked down at Naruto, who was staring at the ground in despair. "That Naruto Uzumaki is to be promoted to Chunin, for skill and bravery on the battlefield."

The council erupted into cries. The ninja council gazed at him in confusion, the elder council in grim understanding, and the civilian council in anger. One councilman, the one Sarutobi had told to shut up once before today stood up.

"You can't do that!" the man yelled. "We voted for his death! The Grand Council voted for his death! You have to execute him!"

Sarutobi smiled at the man and stepped forward. Then he grabbed his head and slammed him into the ground. The man's skull burst like a ripe melon and Sarutobi stood up.

"Silence." He spoke, and all present listened. "I warned you not to speak again. And I am a man of my word. I have every right to do so. You seem to forget, this is not a democracy. This is a military dictatorship. You civilians presume to tell me what to do with my own ninja? My own men? Me? I am Hiruzen Sarutobi, the God of Ninja, Hokage of the Hidden Leaf! I have let the council do what is wishes for too long, it seems. You never truly had any power. I did, and I do. Henceforth, the council does not exist. You wish to challenge my orders?" Sarutobi summoned his staff to his hands and slammed it onto the ground with a crash. "Fine then, come and challenge them to my face. Come, little men. Come and let me crush you underfoot!"

There were no challengers. Sarutobi lowered his staff and motioned to Naruto. "Come with me Naruto. You and I have much to discuss. The elder council can come as well. Though I may disagree with you in many ways, at least you have never presumed to give me anything more than strongly worded advice. Oh, and Danzo? Disband Root. And this time, I mean it. Or I will execute you."

With that, the Sandaime Hokage turned and strode from the room. After a few seconds pause, Naruto followed after him, as did the three on the elder council. Behind, those who remained sprang into pandemonium. Hametsu just watched the proceedings calmly. Then he smiled. "This is good." He too stood and walked from the room, closing the great doors behind him.

* * *

Based on Naruto again. I mean, really. If you don't know Naruto, go check it out. I won't say it's good or anything, but at least get a basic idea of what it is. Also, sorry for the wait. Life happened. I blame Thanksgiving. But hey, at least I updated. Oh, and how about you go check out one of my other fics? I suggest "Kitten in the Closet, or Cat Catch a Break." It's a Bleach thing, and it's finished. Go me!


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